


Ginger Nebulas

by Melusine0811



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Hot Tub, Idiots in Love, Making Love, Metacrisis Doctor (Doctor Who), OTP Feels, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Soulmates, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Sex, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Fluff, Tentoosday (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 11:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20865788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine0811/pseuds/Melusine0811
Summary: The night sky once ruled my imaginationNow I turn the dials with careful calculationAfter a while, I thought I’d never find youI convinced myself that I would never find youWhen suddenly I saw youAt first I thought you were a constellationI made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation:You’re as beautiful as endlessYou’re the universe I’m helpless inAn astronomer at my bestWhen I throw away the measurementsLike a telescopeI will pull you so close‘til no space lies in betweenAnd suddenly I see youSuddenly I see youI was a billion little pieces'til you pulled me into focusAstronomy in reverse,It was me who was discovered"Venus," Sleeping at LastThis is my first fic, so please leave me some love. It is part of a much longer, multichapter fic I have been working on for several months. I knew I wasn't going to finish it by today, Tentoosday depending on where you live, so I took this bit out and am releasing it as a oneshot without giving away too much of the plot. It will still be a part of that fic when I finish it.Follow me! https://melusine0811.tumblr.com/





	Ginger Nebulas

Rose Tyler closes the door behind her as she enters the flat she shares with the Doctor, placing her bag on a nearby chair. She hangs her keys up on the hook by the door and notices happily that the Doctor’s keys are there too, along with the pinstripe jacket he had put on that morning, which was only one of about forty-six.

“_Doctor, honestly. Until you get our TARDIS operational and actually bigger-on-the-inside, you can’t take up the entire closet. You have to leave at least SOME room for me. Especially considering your suits all look so similar. Do you really need this many_?”

She chuckles to herself and shakes her head as she thinks lovingly about her current living situation. It’s been a long day and she smiles warmly, looking forward to seeing him and telling him the result of the fiasco with the Xenotian from Spekara-4 she and some other agents had finally convinced to go home and to stop gathering followers from Earth for its weird cult. This had become a ritual between them these last few months- sitting together on the sofa, cuddling, reconnecting telepathically, and regaling one another in what they’d been up to. Since the Doctor was now teaching part-time at a nearby university, he wasn’t spending his entire work day nearby any longer, so they now had plenty of anecdotes to share with one another in the evenings.

No sooner does she get her shoes off, placing them next to one of his many pairs of Chucks, when she hears his voice from behind her scaring her nearly out of her skin.

“ROSE! Oh thank goodness you’re home. You have to see this!”

She yelps loudly as he grabs her hand, yanking her along with him. She briefly remembers from one of her own physics classes during their separation that “a body at rest tends to stay at rest,” and that for a part-time physics professor (and not to mention resident Time Lord consultant to the newly-formed UNIT, where they both contribute their expertise), he could at least remember Newton’s first law.

She briefly considers reminding him until she realizes that this will only lead to another tangent, professing that it was actually HE who gave Newton the idea in the first place, along with the one for gravity. (That one time he was up in a tree and was kind enough to drop an apple on Newton’s head, even though Newton himself would tell you otherwise.)

  
As he drags her along the hallway as though an army of Sontarans had just spotted them somewhere they’re not supposed to be, dread starts to creep up on her and she begins to worry which appliance he’s dismantled this time. (Did the blender really need to be sonic? Yes, it could now make twice the amount of Banana Daiquiris, but really?)

Fortunately, they turn away from the kitchen to the right instead, and he pulls her into their bedroom and subsequently into the ensuite where he has a magnifying glass sitting on the counter top.

He scoops her up and plops her down on the countertop, stepping between her legs and up against her. He grabs the magnifying glass and holds it up to the short, scraggly beard he has been growing, and squeals delightedly “Look! Just look!!”

He waits several long moments for her reaction, but she is baffled.“Erm...what exactly am I supposed to be looking at? Yes you have a beard and it’s lovely. I’ve been seeing it every day. And would you please stop just _putting_ me places?”

“But look!!! I’m ginger!”

She looks again, closely, squinting with concentration. Sure enough, a few of the short, wiry hairs are coming in reddish, giving his beard a slight auburn tinge.

“Do you realize what this means? I’m finally ginger!! Do you even know how long I’ve waited to be ginger?” He’s babbling delightedly like an overexcited child who’s just been told he’s going to Disneyland.

Suddenly she can’t stop laughing. She collapses into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder, breaking into the kind of fit of giggles that makes your insides hurt. For her, this seems to happen at least once a day since they ended up in this universe. Colors are brighter. She notices music again and doesn’t dismiss it as noise chiseling through her brain as she once did. Food has regained its flavour and there is a permanent glow to her features that has nothing to do with the very little makeup she now wears.

The Doctor pretends to be hurt. “Rose Tyler, I am baring my very _soul_ to you, revealing that one of my deepest and most profound desires finally seems to be coming true and you are having a laugh at my expense!”

She stops laughing and purses her lips. "M'sorry. You're just so ridiculous and I love you."

He brings her close and nuzzles her ear, bringing his hand up to her jaw. and pulling back, looking into her eyes and stroking her cheek with his thumb. “You know….. I am _so_ hurt I think there is only one way you could make it up to me,” he says playfully.

“Really? I wonder what you could _possibly_ have in mind.” She smiles, tongue-touched grin.

Suddenly his tone changes, he smiles, looking straight into her eyes, “I missed you today. I couldn’t wait to see you,” he says.

She smiles softly. “I missed you too. I love having this to look forward to every day. It's like...everything is lighter now."

His eyes are beginning to brim with moisture, and he instinctively looks down. He pulls her in and holds her so close, rocking them back and forth, reverently. His voice is low, just barely above a whisper. “I need you so much. I don’t know what you’re doing to me. It feels...like there is something heavy on my chest.” An edge of desperation is in his voice.

She scatters tender kisses across the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks, over the butterfly whisper of his long eyelashes. She stops at his ear as her lips brush across the outer shell. “I love you,” she whispers again, tears equally springing to her eyes now.

This seems to be happening more often than ever for both of them, nowadays. Overwhelming waves of love and gratefulness that they had been given this _chance_. She reaches out for him telepathically, asking entry into his mind and back into the haven of his timeless soul. The warmth of his telepathic signature welcomes hers immediately, almost anticipating her, and reaching out equally for the soft, golden tendrils of hers. He loves when she’s the one who initiates it. Ever since they established their connection, the time spent away from one another makes them appreciate reuniting even more than it normally would. Rekindling it each time they are alone together is like deep breath- as if they’ve been held underwater for ages and are finally allowed to have air again.

He brushes his thumb over her mouth, she kisses it tenderly, letting her lips linger over the pad, and she smiles at him warmly. She takes his face between her hands and brings her mouth to his, wrapping her legs around his waist. His tongue brushes along her lower lip, and she opens to him. Slow, deep kisses as tongues meet and desire seeps into their connection. He melts into her, taking in the scent of her skin and her hair. Vanilla and something else that is just Rose. He thinks it might be stardust. He wants to bathe in it, as her hands go into his hair, nails raking over his scalp and coming down to run through his barely-there beard.

He holds her against him so tightly she wonders not for the first time exactly how they ever existed without this. Her body instinctively begins to tingle all over, shivers from the oxytocin surging through her body and pooling down low.

All of a sudden, he picks her up from her perch upon the countertop, winding his arms down underneath her knees, and lifts her the short distance to their bed, waddling the ten or so steps away to their sanctuary. She's not going to protest him "putting" her places this time.

He falls on top of her on their bed and at once pulls her shirt up and starts brushing kisses across her stomach. His hands brush along the outside of her thighs up and down and under her skirt. He begins to pull off her tights, his fingers hooking over the waistband, bringing her knickers with them and settles between her thighs without wasting any time. Scattering tiny kisses and brushing his wiry beard on the tender skin on the inside of her thighs, she shivers as he gets ever closer.

He’s taking his time for this part, of course, because he knows how worked up she already is through their connection. Her heady scent reaches his nostrils as he reaches his tongue out tentatively and touches where she wants him the most. She cries out a low moan as his tongue touches her ever so slowly, brushing up over her most sensitive spot, then down through the sides of her folds, up, then down, and she’s keening.

He reaches his lips down to suck gently on her, pulling her flesh into his mouth. His tongue pushes inside as he tastes fresh surges of moisture. She strokes her fingers through his hair, then she suddenly lifts her hips up and pulls off her skirt, and crawls backwards with her elbows to reach the multiple pillows at the head of the bed, where she lays back once again, this time propped up. She wants to watch, _needs_ to see this. Needs to see him do this to her.

He settles between her legs once again, pushing them apart as far as they will go, and she places each of her hands on either side of herself, pulling her folds apart and up with her fingers, so that she can watch his tongue, and giving him better access. Seeing his mouth between her legs is just about the most erotic and incredible thing she can possibly think of. She'd like to freeze time and save this image forever. Him, pouring his love into his touch and caresses, the stroke and soft reverence of his tongue.

For the Doctor, giving her this, giving her this pleasure, hearing her moans is enough to make him climax himself, but he tries as he might to concentrate only on her. He stops to touch with his fingers now, sliding them over her, moistening his digits, and finally pushing his first two inside. Rose, for her part, can’t make any coherent thoughts at the moment as his fingers slide in and out slowly, deeply. She cries out gently with each stroke, and his tongue reaches out again and meets her flesh, circling her as his fingers are pumping in out of her heat. She’s done for and she knows it, because she stops him suddenly.

“Thought...I was….gonna make it up to you” she pants, her face flushed and her eyes dark.

“You think this isn’t as incredible for me as it is for you?” he whispers.

He tries to go back to what he was doing, but she swats him away, leaps off the bed, and takes off her shirt and her bra. He rids himself of his shirt as quickly as he can, and before he can get to his trousers and pants, she collapses on top of him. He props his own head up on the pillow. She starts unbuttoning him, slowly pulling the fabric down over his warmth until he springs free. It’s his turn to see, to watch her. She starts scattering more tender kisses- up his length, down into the soft hairs and tender skin where she cups him and starts rolling him gently. Her tongue reaches out, stroking his tip, and as she bends him down so that he is fully engorged, moisture is already beginning to seep out. She takes him into her mouth, paying special attention to the skin just below the head, sucking gently. It is too much.

“Rose...need to be inside you. Please.”

She kneels up, pulls his remaining clothes off of him then, straddles his thighs, sitting upright, bringing them together. As his length rubs against her wetness, he groans, and before he knows what is happening she is lowering herself down onto him, slowly, enveloping him as he watches her take him inside. He sees her warm folds spreading apart, encasing him, then pulling up and back out, then down again, back out, down and deeper again each time- until he is finally inside her to the hilt. He reaches out to her from their telepathic connection, swirling with her, diving.

He pulls her down to him chest to chest, and kisses her mouth. She can taste herself on him, opening as his tongue dives in and he kisses her deeply. “Rose... _I love you_,” he rasps out as she begins grinding slowly against him, and feels him driving deeply within her on every pass of her hips. He groans every time his length pushes deeper inside her, both knowing this isn’t going to last.

She starts crying out as he thrusts hard and fast up into her, hands holding onto her hips as he wrenches his eyes open and he rasps out, “Look at me, Rose. Do you see? Do you understand…. why what we have is only possible now? It would have killed me. It’s consuming me now, just as I knew it would. I need you, I want you so badly every day that I can’t breathe.” Tears are forming again and begin to drip down the crinkles of his deep brown eyes. His throat starts to burn and his nostrils are flaring. He's practically sobbing now as she's moving above him. He chokes out ”_Rose Tyler, I am SO in love with you_.”

“My Doctor. _I love you_.” Tears are running down her cheeks, too, as she strokes his face, his hair, and before she knows what’s happening, he’s flipping them over so that he is on top.

He looks into her eyes, and says “Look at me. Know that this is me inside you, all of me, every incarnation of me. All 900 years. I waited my entire life for you.” She wraps her legs around him as he pushes back deeply inside her all at once, setting up a rhythm. It quickly becomes as hard, fast, and desperate as before, and he pulls back so that he can watch her features. Before he knows it she is crying out with each deep stroke, her back arching off the bed and her head thrown back as he pushes relentlessly into her.

He runs the tip of his tongue up her throat and suddenly he can’t keep his eyes open any longer, and latches his mouth onto one of her breasts, stroking his tongue over the nipple, drawing it into his mouth. She cries out one last time as she comes, loudly, her very soul exploding around his, her golden signature enveloping his burgundy one, and physically he feels her muscles contracting within, over and over. His own release comes immediately as she pulls him deeply within her one last time, and he spills inside her.

Supernovas, nebulas expand beneath his eyelids as he buries his face in the constellation of her hair.

He collapses on top of her, and they both can barely breathe. How have they been lucky enough to have been granted this? Centuries could have passed, eons. Breathing in his scent, she strokes his hair and places his head against her chest, where he can hear her single heart. It seems to beat exactly to his own.

Once their pulses begin to go down a bit, he picks his head up off her chest, resting his chin between her breasts and says “I’m so grateful I kept my Time Lord brain, but it’s always at times like this when I really do miss my respiratory bypass.”

She giggles through her tears.

___________________

Later, within their jetted bathtub, in the warm water, he’s holding her close as she straddles his lap as they just look at each other, very still, kissing tenderly. He’s examining her features, brushing his thumb across the arch of her eyebrows.

He looks into her eyes, swallows thickly, and begins softly, “A nebula... is probably the most beautiful thing one can behold in the universe. I used to show them to you, if you remember. Technically speaking, it’s a cloud of dust around a dying star after it’s exploded. It….just swirls there, colors caught up and being thrown outwards by a supernova."

He pauses, then continues, "Some time after I lost you, Martha was asleep one night and we were just floating there, in space. I had the doors open and was just staring at this pinkish red nebula, except this one was from a star actually forming instead of one dying. I felt…. that there needed to be something out there bearing your name. I immediately stopped in 1690 to this bloke called John Flamsteed. He had been studying it, mapping it and I told him it looked like a Rose. It became known as the Rosette nebula across time and across every planet, every system.”

  
Rose herself is rendered speechless. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she pulls him close. “My Doctor. The only thing you need to name after me now is your single heart. That’s all I want.”

“When I had two, they had your name written across them nearly from the moment I met you. Rose on one, Tyler on the other,” he chuckles lightly.

He continues, “it’s kind of like, when we’re together, like _that_….when we’re making love, there’s a point where I feel like I’m dying. Like I’m the supernova. And then I wake up, safe, reborn. And I can look in your eyes, at that wonderful honey colour, with that slight greenish nebula tinged across them.”

She lays her head on his shoulder, scratching her nails gently through his auburn-tinged beard.

He stops, suddenly. “Oh my god.”

She pulls back, looking at him; “What? What’s wrong??”

“The ginger hairs. It’s Donna!! Well isn’t that wizard?”

Suddenly she’s laughing so hard again, she’s crying even more.  
_______________________________

**Author's Note:**

> Song quoted was “Venus” by Sleeping at Last.  
https://open.spotify.com/track/4RJHyjSrcIGkFYpTkdkq2B?si=ljJx_Ng5QVKUuomM-TOl2A


End file.
